


Yes Sir

by The_Bubble_Gentleman



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Because I can, Edd's a prince, I made a Susan a human princess, I'll add more - Freeform, Jealousy, Like, M/M, My favorite flavor is Tord being Jealous, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Royalty Dynapics, So yeah like I said Tom is a prince, Tom's a prince, Tord is his man servant, and hey guess what, btw those last three are siblings, but get this, delicious, later or something, royalty!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bubble_Gentleman/pseuds/The_Bubble_Gentleman
Summary: In which Tom is a prince and Tord is his servant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update on One Night when I'm dead  
> -Snapple Bitch

"Thomas, the sun is up and bright, as you should be as well." 

A lady huffed, put out by the young noble's stubbornness. "Blast it all, will you sit all day in your filth? Up!"

The lady may have been correct, as the sun was indeed up. Bright? Perhaps, had it not been covered up by cold and grey clouds. Who's to say how bright the sun was that day, other than this frantic woman, eager to keep the balance of respecting a royal and completing her given task? A shame for her, for the particular noble she was rousing from sleep was a sleepy, hard-headed, and grouchy young man, who was not keen on being woken up on such a gloomy day.

"Damn you." Came a rough grumble from beneath the sheets. "Damn you and your shrill loud voice, you and your ceaseless determination to ruin my day."

"You can 'damn' me all you want, Thomas." The woman said dryly, used to his blatant disrespect. "Doesn't change the fact that you're just a spoiled boy who doesn't do what he's told." She fussed around with his tea that she had brought up to him, adding another sugar cube to make it too sweet for his liking. Thomas always preferred bitter when it came to his tea.

The lump shifted around on the bed, stirring with a low groan, accompanied by a small protest of himself not being a spoiled boy. For he is a man now.

"Perhaps a man..." She mocked interest to humor him. "But this lump of bundle of sheets and unhygienic tendencies tells me otherwise. Now, up!"

The lump sat up in frustration, the sheet falling away and pooling at his waist to reveal the man, grumpy and disoriented from his lack of sleep and patience.

Knotted and mousy brown hair, tossed this way and that on his head. A smooth face with striking facial features and a clean cut jaw. Cheeks dusted with a nice fuchsia. A bit too thin for liking and bit too short, but still toned with budding muscles and defined shoulders just the same. All wrapped up in a faded blue sleep shirt that fell off his shoulders just a tad.

But most interesting was his eyes. Born with an unidentified chemical malfunction that made the man's scleras the reverse monotone color, his eyes seeming to be black. Though some religious citizens and advisors were wary of him (for anything distinguishable from a man and his fellow mankind must mean the devil is afoot, right?), everyone had eventually gotten used to it.

"Those eyes of yours are poor from age." The man muttered. "I am eighteen, aren't I? By law, a man."

"The law doesn't always determine what is and isn't, child."

"Who are you to say the law isn't correct?"

"Who are you to say it is?"

The young man grumbled incoherent curses to no one in particular, disgruntled by the argument he had lost. He closed his eyes and arched his back, stretching his spine into a perfect arch, muscles sore from the poor sleep position.

"There you are, see? Awake with the day and the rest of the world? Doesn't it feel nice?" The woman said.

"Like inescapable agony, Ms. Ethel."

The woman, now known as Ms. Ethel, only chuckled in reply, shoving the tea cup to now awake man.

"Scones with mint butter and sugar-cured ham, Thomas." She smiled warmly. As antagonizing and rude as the boy was, she had grown a soft spot for him over the years, and knew that she would miss this childish banter in her heart of hearts. "And you better eat that fruit! The cup near fell off and I had to bend my wrist at unnatural angles just to get it from falling."

Thomas eyed the tray of food beside his bed, sipping his tea thoughtfully. At the sudden attack of sweet on his tongue, he let it rest on his lap, his face now scrunched up in disgust.

"Fruit is so sweet and atrocious, why would I subject myself to such terror?" A soft muttered 'like you have done to me with this damned tea' under his breath. Ms. Ethel only smiled brighter and leaned forward to pinch his cheeks, a deeper flush coating them.

"It'd brighten up your eyes, darling." She let the comment sink in, then began to laugh at his sour expression. She quickly darted her hand away before he could swat it for her.

"A clever woman too, eh? Quite a woman with talents." She continued to laugh at his commentary. He leaned over to set the teacup on the tray. "Pray tell, how you are not married?"

"A question I ask myself everyday, love. Now eat up!" She dashed around to the other side of the bed, the side with the tray, and set it down on his lap. "Tord will be here in a moment to dress you."

Thomas groaned. "Really? Why can't someone more interesting ever come and dress me? A pretty girl perhaps?" He drew his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, deep in thought. "Not someone so cold and odious as he... He never says a kind word to me!"

Ms. Ethel scurried over to open the drapes, receiving a hiss from the boy. She gave a scoff in response. The boy was very pale.

"You probably scare him off. You and that wicked attitude of yours." She tried to give him a smile. "And besides, it's not his job to entertain you."

"It'd certainly make things less awkward. Ever had a man undress and dress you back again, all without a hint of emotion in his eyes? Not a kind word to be said? Very uncomfortable."

"Well, whatever his problem may be," she said, waving away the thought with a flick of her wrist. "You should eat and be ready for him. It'd make the whole experience much quicker." And with that, she patted his head then, with a swift turn of her skirts, left the room with a small click of the door.

Thomas sighed and grabbed the tray handle, lifting it onto his lap.

As he spread some mint butter on the inside of a scone, he looked out the window. He favored days like these, grey and almost gloomy. Not because he was just a textbook example of angst and agony, he just preferred the brisk breeze that flushed his cheeks and nose, where his ears would get red from the cold. Where light showers of rain would fall on and off throughout the day. He disliked sunny days, the sun was too bright and near blinded him. He preferred to read outside in the cold with a large and warm coat on, protecting him from being too chilly. He'd read outside any day then talk to his family.

Not that there was anything wrong with his family. He took a bite of the scone. Buttery, hot, and a bit salty, leaving a fresh feeling in his mouth from the mint flavoring. Thomas was always more antisocial than his other siblings. Charismatic when he chose to be, the charming and witty boy his parents wanted, but he rather liked to keep to himself when he had the chance. In fact, he'd rather just sit here in his bed all day and listen to the gentle and light rains, pattering against his window as he read his books.

What did he even have to do today? His studies, of course. He had no objection to that, since he actually enjoyed the teaching. But other than that? Nothing that he was aware of. Maybe he could sit in the library then in his free time.

A sharp rapping sound came from the door.

"Sir, may I come in?"

Another heavy sigh and an ungraceful attempt of stuffing the rest of his scone in his mouth. His muffled response of yes, he may indeed come in, resulted in the spewing of crumbs everywhere.

Entering the room was his personal servant, Tord. Broad muscles and lean body, a bit taller than Thomas, a faded white button up and grey vest stretched across his muscles . Sharp jawline and piercing brown eyes. Fluffy strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a small ponytail and tucked behind his ear. Not to mention his exotic and intriguing accent. All the girls around here had the same English accent as Tom did and most likely thought he was boring because of it. Tord. A real ladies man, Thomas was sure. How could he not be? He intimidated Thomas, and he just wanted nothing more than to befriend Tord. Well, maybe not befriend, but be at least on respectable terms with him. As far as Thomas could tell, Tord disliked him. Probably thought he was stuck-up and spoiled brat, just a general nescience to the castle and to he himself.

Tord took one look at Thomas's chubby chipmunk cheeks, stuffed with scone, and muttered a single: "Charming."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "Always a pleasure, Tord." His point was ineffectively carried out, crumbs still leaking out of his mouth.

Tord rolled his eyes and strode over to the dressing cabinet. Tom watched his eyes, fixated on finding a proper outfit for him.

"Miss Laurel and her father are coming." Tord spoke finally, eyes still on the clothes. "Around four. Don't get dirty."

"Why should you care?" Thomas retorted. He wasn't even planning too, but now out of pettiness and spite, he was now planning to go shower in dirt and mud. "It gives you something to do, doesn't it? Can't imagine you have much else."

"You do realize I have other things to do, correct?" Tord's gaze rested on him, peeking out from the corners of his eyes. "My daily chores do not only consist of wiping your ass."

"Well I'd never deprive you of that."

Tord sighed and finally settled on an outfit appropriate for his lord, holding it out for him to see. "There. A dull brown suit. How's that?"

Tom was indifferent.

"That'll clash with my hair and make me look like a walking shit." Thomas huffed. "And you know it too, you insufferable ass." Tord smirked and hung it back up.

"You and Ms. Ethel, I swear. Am I really that bad? She made my tea nearly inedible, it was so sweet." Thomas shuffled out of the bed and made a poor attempt of pulling up his shirt, still exposing his pale shoulder. "You're all out to get me."

"You're mistaken. Here I thought brown would be a fitting color on you." Tord mused, clearly biting back his smile.

Tom swore under his breath, trudging over to the dressing cabinet where Tord stood, wearing nothing less but an amused expression on his face.

"If you won't help me..." Tom started, shifting his clothes apart as he scanned large cabinet. "...then I'll just pick something out myself."

Tord rolled his eyes and leaned against the frame, studying his master. He watched him fumble through the curtain of clothes, listening to Tom's small complaints of 'who needs this much clothes anyway, I mean honestly...' Tom pulled out a wire hanger, holding up a navy blue tunic to go over a white button up.

"Look at this, a self-sufficient man. Who can indeed pick out what he wants to wear." He teased.

Tord let out a sigh in response. "Such a self-sufficient man, I'm in awe. However I can't help but notice that, for a man of such prestige and respect..." He gestured to Tom's exposed shoulder. Thomas flushed and pulled the outfit closer to him, attempting to hide the ridicule.

"Ugh. Here. You can't do anything, I swear." Tord grumbled. He gently pushed down the clothes that blocked his shoulder, and pulled a small pin from his pocket to fix it.

Tord was close to him. Tom could smell the tobacco on his breath, heavy and almost suffocating. He cringed and jerked his head away from the smell.

"I'm taking this off anyway." Tom said. "No need to fix it." And with that, he slid his shirt over his head and threw it on the bed.

He went over to the mirror and gazed at himself. Not fat whatsoever. Too skinny, too bony. There were some bumps of muscle that led down his stomach, as well as along his arms, but otherwise quite small.

He poked at the scars that rested on his jutting hip bones.

He heard a pleasant and soft laugh behind him. From the mirror he saw Tord approach him from behind, his fingers pointing to Thomas's scalp. "Messy hair and baggy shirts, how do you see yourself as a grownup, I wonder." He asked. Rhetorical, of course. To which Tom crossed his arms over his chest in frustration.

Tom yanked the clothing from Tord's hand and began to dress himself. White undershirt slipped over him, further ruining his hair.

"So Tord." Thomas said airily. "You have a lover in your life?"

He was answered with only a smirk.

Cold air. Brisk and cold, and Tom shivered in response. He pressed his arms to his sides as an attempt to warm himself. Tord must've noticed the change in demeanor, as he had taken the clothes back from him to complete his original job.

Tom shivered again. Tord was now buttoning up his dress shirt, his cold and icy tips occasionally leaving behind trails of goosebumps.

"You're cold."

Tom snapped out of his daze. Tord was giving him a mildly concerned look, one that expressed frustration more than genuine worry.

"I...yes, I am." Tom responded. "Do you think it should be cold all day?"

"Most likely."

Well, Tom thought, its good that's he's making an attempt at conversation.

Tord squinted his eyes and asked him to turn around.

 

•••


	2. The plot thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating I’ve been depressed as hell ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ im gonna try to update every week.

 

 

"Ah, Thomas! Finally, I was wondering where you were."

Said person had stumbled into the first dining hall, still rather tired and hungry.

His brother and sister were the only ones there. His parents had most likely finished and left promptly for...whatever. Whatever they had to do, he guessed.

Brown hair that resembled himself, but much more tame and flat, rest upon his brother Edward. Edd, as he liked to call him. He was bigger, looked much more healthy than Tom. Muscles and broad shoulders, covered in a healthy layer of fat. Charming, friendly, and a love of the arts, he was destined to be married first. To inherit the kingdom first.

To say that Thomas is never jealous of him would be an absolute lie. Who wouldn't be? Thomas tried to convince himself that he hated him, but found that he couldn't. He was just too good a person, and you never really can hate family, can you? So, in result, Thomas had come to terms with the fruitless rivalry.

Beside him sat their mutual sister, Susanna, or Susan as they called her. Plump and curvy in all the best ways, even Thomas had to admit she was quite  beautiful. Darker, longer hair than both of them, brown eyes so dark it looked black in some light, and a voice like an angel. A bit more masculine than the other girls, but pleasant just the same.

Out of the two of his siblings, Tom had always preferred to confide in her, as she was warm and welcoming and never seemed to make rash judgements.

Secretly, Tom would wish he could be like them. Attractive, beaming, active, radiant...instead he was skinny and bony, eyes hollow and sad like his future, and a thick layer of humor to hide his insecurities.

God forbid they ever know that.

"Mm, I apologize." Thomas gave a smirk and, after leaning down to kiss Susan's cheek, took a seat across from her. "Tord was taking forever to dress me."

"Ah, blaming him again, are you?" Susan gave an amused chuckle.

"Well." Thomas sighed. "Maybe I wouldn't blame him if he wasn't always the one to blame." He was immediately bombarded with a large teapot in his face. The footman quietly informed him that it was mint-lemon tea, to which Thomas responded with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

Edd laughed, booming and cheerful as always. "I always presumed you were late from your own doing." He caught Tom's blatant stare, and began laughing again.

"Do we have anything that isn't mint?"asked Thomas, put out by the offensive flavor of tea provided for him. "Anything else, actually. I'd have shoe wax rather than mint right now." He received a low-whispered 'over dramatic' from the other side of the table.

The footman nodded his head and left after putting the pot back.

"Y'know, Laurel is coming over today." Edd spoke, mouth full of egg.

"Yes, I heard from Tord." At his words, Susan started laughing.

"You speak so ill of him, and yet simultaneously respect and listen to him. Very confusing, dearest." She raised and eyebrow and gave him one of her signature smirks, one she often gave to show her knowing to something. Tom grumbled unintelligible curses, but begrudgingly decided to stuff a biscuit into his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t question my actions.” Thomas said, spewing crumbs out as he spoke, to which Susan gave a sarcastic ‘charming’ in response.

  
•••

  
“Miss Laurel is here to see you, my lord.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Tom was enjoying the afternoon in the library. Not particularly reading anything, mostly just taking in the energy from being around the books. Tom always enjoyed being surrounded by books. Opposite to Edd, he felt invigorated from the library rather than nature. As of now, he was casually flipping through a thick brown book, pages tinted with faded yellow.

In the room came the lovely Laurel. They had known each other for some time, and Thomas had always had a slight... romantic inclination towards her. Who couldn’t? She was beautiful, with black hair so dark it nearly looked deep blue. A sweet girl, someone who enjoyed the arts.

Edd liked her too. They didn’t talk as much anymore, but Tom noticed the sly glances he gave her. Technically, Edd was supposed to marry her, since he was to be the king.

Laurel smiled at him in a sweet way that brought heat to Tom’s face.

“Dearest Thomas...” She strode confidently up to him, in which he stood and met her in the middle. She held out her hand and he, as expected of such an action, took it and brought it to his lips.

A warm blush came across her cheeks, as he remained eye contact with her.

“Laurel, you’re looking lovely as always.” Tom noted, finally pulling away from her.

“As are you.”

“Come, sit.” Tom requested, gesturing to the open, comfortable space behind him. She responded with a bright smile and took his arm when provided. When seated, she immediately went straight into conversation.

“How are you?”

Tom gave her a smile. “Fine thank you.”

She really was a beauty. Her thick hair ties back, small strands escaping and giving her a whimsical look. She stared at him with accusing eyes, ones that made him shift in his seat.

She was acting quite formal, now that he thought about it. Was something the matter? He thought he should ask her, but would that be prying? Women never were his strong suit.

“God, you look sickeningly pale.” She offered a disgusted face for emphasis.

Ah. There’s the Laurel he knows.

“Still take to books rather than people?” She asked. “People will talk, you know...”

Tom sighed, offering a quiet thank-you to a footman with a platter of tea cups and garnishments to accompany it. He made himself tea (the way it ought to be made, damn it) and listened to her fussing, making a grunt of understanding every once a while.

”I wish you’d talk to people.”

Tom set his cup down. “I wish you’d learn boundaries.”

”I’m serious!” She exclaimed.

”So am I.”

She leaned forward and began making herself some tea. Too many sugar cubes, Tom had noted. 

He enjoyed Laurel’s company when she wasn’t acting like a parent, or a big sister. Overprotective, overbearing, and just a tad obnoxious. He preferred Laurel when she acted like the goofy girl she was.

Laurel scoffed. “Honestly, how do you expect to find a court mate?”

 

Tom coughed, emerging from his own thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“A court mate. Someone to court. A suitable match. Anybody, really.”

Tom sighed once more, as he is prone to doing. He is often asked this question, and is accustomed to the situation from which it is asked. He was well aware of what he should say in a situation like this; something that provides false hope and reassurance that is satisfying enough for the subject to drop. Yes, very well aware of what he should say, but...

“It’s not as if I choose to be alone!” He exclaimed. A bit surprised by his own bluntness, but continued nonetheless. “Perhaps I do take to myself a bit more than socially acceptable but I find that I’m happier that way.”

“I see.” Laurel narrowed her eyes, sipping her tea. God, he thought, she wouldn’t understand. She’s far too charming and likable to ever feel the burden of self-hatred and low self-esteem. She is always surrounded by friends and smiles that she’d have no idea what it’s like to be alone. 

On the matter of courting, he has no objection. He’d love to have someone to love and cherish and do the same for him, as the stories go in the books he denies he reads. But...

“And to be quite honest, no one has really ever...caught my eye?” He bit his lip as he awaited her answer, hoping for it to not be as rude and slighting as it sounded.

Laurel was a very deserving young woman but he could never have her. It was more of a fruitless wish then anything else. In reality, he knew they wouldn’t be compatible as anything other than friends.

“Is that so?” Came her response. He couldn’t exactly read her emotions, but she seemed unaffected.

At that moment, the door was knocked, but opened despite of it.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sir,” Cold golden eyes locked with Tom’s void. “but you’ve just received these letters.”

Tom was thankful for something to distract from Laurel’s prying questions.

“Ah, thank you, Tord.” He eagerly took the letters from his hands when they approached, not particularly expecting anything, but still excited just the same.

Laurel seemed delighted by his appearance, and sat up straighter. Tom noticed this and shot her a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. She either ignored him, or was just simply too caught up in the new company.

“Tord! My, you’re looking well! How are you?” She shot him a bright smile that nearly made Tom scoff with amusement. Tord was clearly ready to leave after this quick errand, but because a noble was addressing him, he had to stay and participate in the conversation.

Tom found this entertaining. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing him as Tord stood beside his chair. Tom took another sip of tea, then listened to the new arrangement.

“I’m...fine, thank you ma’am.” Tord was a disagreeable person, and he really hated doing things he didn’t want to do. Or rather, he hated unnecessary things not required for him to do.

Tom knew this, knew he’d rather not make idle small talk to appease Laurel’s flirting habits when he’d rather attend to his multiple other duties.

He had a tight jaw, eyes staring at her with nothing but forced manners and job etiquette. He sure can act, Tom thought to himself.

“Good, good.” Laurel replied, picking up her teacup and bringing it to her lips. “So, Tord.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Thomas and I were just having an interesting conversation, one describing his lack of social life.” She briefly locked eyes with Tom, eyes alive with playfulness and amusement. “Do you think it’s ok that he has found no one to pursue yet?”

Tord, as a servant, is not allowed to voice his entire opinion. Or rather, he is to be guarded of his answers. Tom was intrigued to see what he’d say next.

Tord gave a small smile; something rarely seen. Tom widened his eyes and plainly faced him fully, opposed to just side-eyeing him.

“I believe that everyone goes at their own pace.” He spoke clearly and punctually, his accent tinting his words. “I’m sure he will find a wife in good time.” Tord finally gazed down at Tom. His eyes were indecipherable, just simply casting upon him. Tom squinted his eyes but asked nothing.

Put out by the plainness of his answer, Laurel huffed. “Well, that’s all well and good, but it still solves nothing at the moment.”

“Edd is to heir after my father,” Tom snapped his eyes to her, head still facing the servant. “so why should I marry? It’s not as if I’m going to be king any time soon.”

“Perhaps, but it still looks good on the kingdom should all children be wed off.”

“Is appearance all that matters to you?”

“Are you so selfish as to think everything you do does not reflect upon your family? Your father’s name? Your kingdom?”

Tom rolled his eyes and dismissed Tord with a wave of his hand, eyes now focusing on the letters that rest in his lap.

“That will be all, thank you Tord”

Tord gave a slight bow. “Very good, sir.”

When he left the room, Laurel turned on Tom with a look of pure irritation.

“You had to go and do that, did you?”

Tom was a bit irritated with her, and hoped Edd would come in and talk to her (since it was he who was supposed to be marrying her). He read the inscription on the top letter, faded white with black scuff marks on it.

“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realize I was ruining your chances.” He murmured, not looking up. “You do understand that he is lower class, and you are nobility, correct? You talk of selflessness but explain that display.”

She flushed and crossed her arms.

“Well, pardon me for having a bit of child-like wonder! I don’t intend to pursue him, but...” She bit her lip. “...I sure would like to have a little fun with him.”

Tom laughed, glancing up at her blissful expression. “Ma’am, do you forget yourself? How inappropriately honest.”

“Oh come now.” She said, throwing up her hands. “Perhaps you should take part in flirting a bit, realize the fun in it.”

“And we’re back to this.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, leaning forward a bit and resting her hand on Tom’s knee. His full attention was on her now.

“Thomas, I...I do care about you, you know.” She rubbed her thumb along his kneecap. “I want to see you happy, to see you with someone who will make you happy. Listen, if you get old enough, your parents will decide to rid you of your freedom and shackle you with some odious wench.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, dear Laurel.” Tom smiled at her, a blush rising to his cheeks. She looked nice in this lighting.

Laurel sighed and took her hand back, gently resting it on her forehead.

“I wish we were all younger again.” She whispered, a dreamy expression on her face. “When there was no rush to do anything in particular, just enjoying what we could of the day.”

“But we’re not young anymore, and it’s time for me to find someone.” Tom took one last finishing gulp of his tea, shifting in his seat. “I need to grow up.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You do.”

The door opened once more, only this time came forth Edward and Susanna. The footman that had opened the door now shut it, leaving the four to their conversation.

“Susanna! Darling!” Laurel immediately rose from her chair and flew into her arms. “So good to see you!”

Susan laughed at her enthusiasm and hugged her, tight and close to her as Laurel began bombarding her with questions.

Edd watched the scene take place, a smile on his face. He then turned to Tom with a determined eagerness.

“Thomas, did you receive some letters?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” He said, sitting on the loveseat. “You obviously have not opened them, as you would be complaining a great deal had you done so.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Is there something I should worry for?” Edd’s eyes gave a shimmer, light flashing over them in a second.

“No. Any normal person would find it un-noteworthy. But this is you we’re talking about.”

Tom’s eyes furrowed, now staring down the four letters that rest on his lap.

He eventually picked up the faded white one. He attempted to open it by the triangular flap, but it only ripped (much to Edd’s amusement). With a frustrated huff, he stuck his finger under the remaining paper and tore it open in an unorganized, messy fashion.

“You do know that letter openers exist, correct?”

“You do know I could give fewer shits, correct?”

Edd chuckled, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. Best not to anger him, for as soon as he reads the letter, he would be spitting mad. Edd couldn’t wait.

Tom threw the paper envelope to the side (“Oh, honestly, Thomas!” Susan cried from across the room) and pulled out the contents. A letter, as he expected.

Tom squinted his eyes and read it.

From across the room, Susan and Laurel had been walking arm in arm with each other around the room, giggling at the silliest things and making like children themselves. They had been picking up books and reading excerpts to make each other laugh.

Much to their annoyance, they heard a shrill cry of shock and disbelief from the other side of the room. They chose to ignore it, but still turned to each other and rolled their eyes in response. Susan quickly picked up a book with a silly title and read it in such a way that Laurel couldn’t help but erupt in a fit of giggles, the annoyance now forgotten.

Back to the sitting area of the room, Edd was silently laughing, the only sign of his enjoyment was the quick movement of his chest and the ragged intake of breath every now and then, punctuated by staccato breaths.

“Edd!” Tom whined. As Edd had predicted, Tom was extremely put-out by it. Tom was flushed red and his shoulders were tense; he seemed to be closing in on himself.

“What? What does it say?” Edd burst into another fit of booming laughter. “Pray tell! I’ll die from curiosity should you refrain the-the information!”

“Oh, shut up, you dumb ass!” Tom barked, inferior to the sound of Edd’s joy.

Edd began to calm down, still chuckling. Tom threw the paper at him, only to have it swerve away and drift behind his own chair due to the aerodynamics.

“Well?”

“Well, what? You know exactly what it says! You must’ve received the same letter.”

“That I did.

“So, what?” Tom scowled at the ground, pouting. “We are all required to go to this absolute waste of time?”

“Well, yes.”

“But I don’t want to!”

Edd’s smile turned into a slightly concerned frown. “I don’t make the rules, you’ll just have to. And to look good on behalf of our father,” His mischievous smirk returned. “You will have to dance every dance with the ladies.”

Tom made a strangled cry, voice cracking in the middle. He had narrowly avoided going to all previous assemblies, all the balls and dances that he held no interest for. But here this letter says that ‘they are excited to see him, especially after his father already said yes to his appearance.’ The damn bastard.

“I’d rather die then dance with some...” He made rapid gestures. “...people!”

“I believe you are very much in need of society, dear.” Behind him, a voice like silk intruded upon their thoughts. Tom groaned, knowing exactly who it was. The last person he wanted lecturing him now was her.

“Susan,” He said, turning to her. “Please do take this the wrong way, as I really don’t want to hear you speak right now.”

She laughed. “Thomas, I couldn’t keep away from this! I heard multiple screams resembling a girl, and had to come immediately.”

“As did I” said Laurel, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

“Rotten traitors, all of you.” Tom grumbled. “Did you know of this shit? I could’ve stood for some mental preparation, Susan.”

“Well...yes I did know.” She sat down beside Edd, Laurel taking her original seat. “But listen, you would have put that absurdly clever mind to use! You would’ve found some way to escape it, perhaps even found a way to become deathly ill to avoid it!”

Tom sniffed. “Glad to know my reputation precedes me.”

Laurel found it hilarious, and began laughing hysterically, accompanying Edd’s chuckling. Susan only offered a sigh of ‘thats not a good thing, Thomas darling.’

“Whatever your opinion on the matter is, you have to go. And!” Susan sat up straighter. “And you could take Laurel, if you want to avoid dancing with other ladies!”

Tom blushes furiously. He could imagine Laurel in a tight, lovely dress, one that would bring out her lovely eyes. Her hair heavy with decorations and accessories, blush across her cheeks.

It sounded nice, he supposed. Laurel was much more agreeable then the other women he had met. He could envision laughing with her and getting drunk and making fun of everything and everyone together in the corner.

“Looks like he’s more accepting of the idea now, Susanna dearest.” Edd smirked.

  
•••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OWO a paRtY?? W h a t s t h i s ???


	3. In which I give Edd a storyline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom seeks advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly gee wiz sorry for being gone

Ever since Tom found out about the upcoming event, it seems that it was all anyone could think about. The dam was broken. The kraken released. Cat officially out of the fucking bag.

His parents seemed neutral, didn’t seem to care, as always. But perhaps they did care in this case, considering they had a reputation to uphold.

Tom had a theory that he and his siblings were only born out of the need for a secure legacy. Hell, they probably weren’t even in love. Tom had a feeling he was right, that his parents were shipped off together like cattle from their own parents.

Whatever their concealed feelings on the matter were, he had no doubt in his mind that he couldn’t possibly care less.

Edd was acting more skittish than usual. More nervous, anxious a better term for it. Edd is usually very calm and confident. He tended to be that constant line of peace to hold them together. ‘Them’ being the emotionally unstable younger siblings. 

Speaking of which, Tom had not seen her around much. Susan, before any dance or gathering, will tend to skip and dance and act like complete fool without a care in the world around the hallways. He wished to speak with her. She usually offered the best advice and advice is exactly what he needed right now.

Girls. What an enigma.

How the ever-loving fuck is he supposed to know how to show Laurel a good time? Yes, earlier he had envisioned them having fun, but now as they days seemed to grow shorter, the date upcoming fast, he soon realized what an over-generalization he had made. Especially regarding his own social skills, god forbid he needed help with those. Now Susan, being a girl and all, seemed to never be anywhere. 

One morning, Tom recalled himself being desperate enough as to ask Ms.Ethel about the secrets of women. She seemed more entertained and amused rather than supportive and actually helpful.

With no genuine support at hand, Tom took to the library for the remaining week. He filled up on as much romantic drama, intaking every line and action. Like right now.

The woman in the story was currently in denial about her feelings for the man. Clearly because of his so-called “nosy” behavior with his sister and her now ex-fiancé. Tom scoffed at the fictional woman. How could she not see? He did it purely out of care for his friend, not to hurt her sister. Hell, he loved her.

Tom blindly reached for his tea, his eyes never leaving the page. Ah here he is. The man of the hour. Mr I-know-all, here to make it right. Tom highly doubted he could make it right anymore, the potential budding relationship seemed to be decimated with no chance of revival. He’d really have to lay down the language of love to snap her out of her shit.

He eagerly skimmed down the page until the man spoke, avoiding all the the excess details of the sexual tension.

As he said, he had reached blindly for the tea, and that caused him to knock it over. Hot tea spilt onto the rug and Tom’s shoes and pant-legs. The cup didn’t break, surprisingly. But it caused a loud enough noise to summon his favorite Norwegian asshole.

“Sir, I heard a noise. Is everything alright?” Despite his words, he sounded as apathetic as ever. The door shut behind Tord as he stood patiently by the door way, most likely surveying the room. Tom sighed, then turned around to face him.

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Good bye, now.” Tom made sure to give him the angriest look he could muster, then turned back around, picking up the open book.

Tord sighed. “No, sir, not ‘good bye’, as I have to clean this up, thanks to you.” He strode forward, shoes creating deep, thrumming thumps along the carpeted floor. Tom’s eye twitched.

“I’d watch your tongue, should you not be relieved of your situation.” He received only a scoff in return but nothing else. He could feel a warm presence next to him, carefully taking out one of the rags in his pockets.

Tom glanced over at him. Tord was slumped over the large stain, applying pressure to soak up as much as possible, mumbling something about a stain remover downstairs. 

The young lord eyed him thoughtfully. No, he would never actually have a complaint sent out to put Tord out of his job. It was a mutual understanding that the footmen of the castle could not be so uptight and punctual around him. Tom had no desire to see men skirt around him as if on eggshells. It was silly. Why have them pretend to love acting like dogs? Personally, he thought it would make their job easier if they didn’t act so formal all the time.

He actually enjoyed the company Tord offered him. The occasional witty banter, the insight to maturity...though that was rare. Tord took to mildly insulting him from time to time and doing his actual job with stoic movements. Yes, Tom might even say he looked up to Tord.

The young lord’s gaze shifted to Tord’s broad shoulders. Muscled, shifting with every movement of his arms. He thought he could actually see the tendons moving. He must get a lot of attention from the maids downstairs, who were forbidden from going upstairs and being seen by royalty. Hell, Tord must’ve been quite the popular man back where he’s from. Perhaps he has had experience in such an area?

Before his gaze could be averted back to his book, the footman tilted his head and eyed Tom.

“What.” He deadpanned as more of a statement than a question. Tom flushed and quickly turned back to his book, embarrassed from being caught. But then...

No he shouldn’t be embarrassed. After all, had he not had something to ask him?

Tom closed his book and turned back to him. He was awarded with a snort as Tord crouched on his feet and looked at him, their eyes interlocking.

“You take to observing more seriously today. Anything you’d like to share?” Tord had that smirk upon his face. He was feeling playful then. Not like his usual self, who was no fun at all.

“I was just thinking.” Tom mused, resting his head on his hand. Tord chuckled and grabbed the dirty rag. He stood up and crossed his arms.

“About what, pray tell?” 

“Well,” Tom blinked. “You are a very attractive man.”

Inwardly, he awarded himself with praise. Yes, good for him that he could speak so confidently. It didn’t seem like royalty should look up to the staff of the downstairs, but here he was defying what society said once again.

Tord’s face was unreadable, as usual, but there as a hint of something in his eyes. What it was, Tom didn’t know. Tord is as mysterious as girls are. 

“I-“ Tord’s deep voice cracked, much to Tom’s amusement. But for the sake of what advice he may receive, Tom thought better of laughing aloud.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re so uncomfortable with this. You surely must know.” Tom shifted in his seat and looked at him with a determined look. “After all, don’t you have women lining along the block?”

Tord’s shoulders tensed, his brow furrowed, attempting to put together this puzzle laid before him, and suddenly his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. What was the matter? Had he been too blunt?

“So that’s what this is.” Tord sighed, refraining from his previous demeanor. “You’re seeking advice about women, particularly concerning the upcoming dance.”

“Yes!” Tom said, relieved that he was going in the right direction. “Yes, that’s right. So, would you mind telling me what to say? What to do? After all, I wouldn’t want to disappoi-“

“No.”

Tom snapped from his happy delusion, one where Tord saw him as a friend would happily help him out in a time of need. Tord was massaging the sinuses between his eyes, brow still furrowed in concentration.

“E-excuse me?”

“No, I won’t help you.”

Silence.

“Ah...” Tom nodded slowly. “Of course.” His mood now rotten, he grabbed his book and set back to discovering poorly-written knowledge. 

Tord was still in the room for whatever reason. The young lord was about to dismiss him himself, but Tord took the liberty of doing so.

He quickly bowed and walked briskly to the door, letting it fall shut with a click behind him.

Tom let his book fall to the floor in frustration. It was no use, he couldn’t concentrate like this, nonetheless pick up anything that wasn’t cheesy and painful to listen to. Perhaps he should consult Edd.

Tom perked up at that. That sounded like a good idea. A little desperate, a little pathetic, but nothing that wasn’t beneath him. Edd always has had a way with women.

Well, now hold on. Edd has been very...weird, recently. Could he actually be as nervous as him? No, he doubts that. Edd is genuinely confident; things just don’t get to him. Something else is probably bothering him.

With that, he sat up, stretching and feeling his muscles pull apart after being bunched together for so long, and made his way to leave the library in search of his elder brother.

 

•••

 

“Edd! Where the fuck are you?” 

A loud voice echoed down the hallways, the voice in search for the related one; the deep, cheerful, and kind relative of raspy, low, and whiny. Thomas had been searching for ten minutes (which around such a large castle is really short a timespan) and was promptly impatient already. 

He was searching down the second floor of the east wing. Nothing, nothing but a few footmen scurrying about to tidy up after their mess. 

Thomas sighed and leaned against the wall. 

Perhaps Tord would have helped him had he chosen a more simple approach, rather than outright admitting to admiring him. Perhaps Tord would have helped him had he decided to approach him like a friend rather than a deity.

The boy laid down on a nearby bench in deep contemplation. A deity; comparing a servant to a deity is no good. He should definitely keep that all to himself.

It also might have helped had he not scolded Tord for just simply teasing him, as he often wish he would do more of. God, Tom really was a hypocrite, wasn’t he. 

Why did social class had to stand in the way of making a friend or two? Scolding him only gave into that social hierarchy. And as a rebellious and rambunctious boy, he has the responsibility to go against the social hierarchy and disrupt the peace. Society be damned, Tom was determined to make nice with his personal servant.

Thomas stood up from the wooden bench and carried on down the hall, new found goals set place in his mind. He’d go back to the library and ask for a Tord from one of the footmen.

However, this new found determination was cut short by a timid tone, one not usually heard in that certain pitch.

“Tom?”

To his delight and surprise, said man turned to find the one he was looking for: Edd.

“Edd, where the fuck have you been?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god guys I literally love the comments you leave me it really makes my day <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom finds Edd alone in one of the halls. Oh dang I wonder why.

Edd was lounging on the comfort of the floor, legs crossed with plenty of room to spare. He didn’t seem happy, but he didn’t seem sad either. His face was contorted into one of pathetic apathy, something that resembled an oxymoron to see upon Edd’s face, the very avatar for joy and passion.

 

His thumbs twiddled between his legs. His face still passive, but on a closer inspection, his eyes wide and scared.

 

“Edd, where in _hell_ have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere, you dumb bastard.” Tom talked as if he hadn’t noticed the face pulled by his brother.

 

“I’ve questions for you, and I had to get through an uncomfortable encounter with Tord again, which you know how I detest _those_ inevitable gems...”“

 

Edd’s strange expression had translated into something more relaxed and relieved, and his tight lipped mouth had pursed out into nervous smile.

 

“Hell, Thomas, you really had me for a second.” But when Thomas made no facial recognition of what he was referring to, Edd’s eyes widened impossibly more.

 

“O-oh, I see, so...so you haven’t been told then.”

 

“No.” Tom squinted, then plopped onto the floor in front of Edd’s legs, knees popping. “Why, what has happened?”

 

Edd’s original aura had returned, Head now turned and refusing to meet Tom’s curious eyes.

 

“I...I may have...” Edd rubbed his hands together. “...broke Susanna?”

 

Tom’s face remained straight.

 

“You did what now.”

 

“Fuck!” All nerves seemed to spike at once in Edd’s body, all tension being let loose through his booming voice and repressed hand gestures now flailing about like a flock of birds. “I dropped a stack of books onto her right foot by accident! And I swear! I _swear_ upon everything and anything that I didn’t see her behind me when I was carrying them!”

 

Tom remained still, quietly listening.

 

“And I had to give the books to mother since she hasn’t been feeling good these last couple days and she is bed ridden, no matter what smelling salts she uses, and I didn’t know Susan was behind me and she scared me since I wasn’t expecting her there, Thomas, and she yelled so _loud_ -“

 

Through Tom’s head, only one conclusion came to mind.

 

“And now she can’t dance or sing at the upcoming dance.”

 

Silence.

 

“Y-Yes, but-“

 

“Henceforth, restraining her from attending the dance.”

 

Edd’s mouth stayed comically agape. After much hesitation and silence, he began to speak.

 

“I-“

 

He put his hands mid-gesture into his lap, holding and hiding his face, radiating defeat and guilt.

 

“God, no matter what I can think, nothing will make this better. She refuses to sing if she cannot dance along with it, and she says all is well and she’s comforting _me_! But I see her eyes and how sad they are, and eyes are the one thing that can’t lie.”

 

Edd’s eye peered between his fingers.

 

“I know how close you two are, and I feel just awful Tom and I’m going to stay from the dance as well to care for her, and I was so scared you were going to be this angry, and- oh please Tom don’t be cross god I’m _so_ sorry-“

 

Tom waved his hand.

 

“It’s fine, Edd. You have no malicious intent within your bones. You’re just a clumsy idiot. However,” Tom stood up, Edd making no rebuttal for the charges placed upon him. “I will go and check on her.”

 

As calm as those words sounded to the average ear, to Edd they were a death sentence, as indicated by the snap up of his head and the blatant fear in his eyes.

 

“T-Tom, I feel really bad about this. The guilt is eating me alive and I can’t do anything about it.”

 

“Hm. Good.”

 

“I’m really sorry! You know I would never do anything to hurt her!”

 

“As you should, or else I’d kill you.”

 

“I-I didn’t break _your_ foot! I understand that you’re upset, but not this-“

 

That’s when Thomas whirled on him.

 

“Yes, I know that!” His face morphed to one of pure agony. “But why couldn’t you have dropped it on _me_?”

 

Edd was silent in confusion at the spoken words. He had expected Tom to be upset that he had accidentally injured Tom’s closest friend and sister, but he had not expected this...

 

“I...what...?”

 

Tom came back and put his hands on Edd’s shoulders, locking eyes with him and staring with such intensity that Edd flinched.

 

“Edd, you know I’d rather eat shit then go to this dance so why, brother _why_ , couldn’t you have executed your clumsy nature onto me?!”

 

Edd blinked in shock.

 

“I’m...sorry?” He guessed.

 

Tom gave him another once over, then removed his arms from him, giving a satisfied nod before walking away with newfound determination.

 

“Damn right.” He mumbled to himself.

 

 

•••

 

 

Tom had visited Susan that afternoon, where Susan had promptly laughed at Tom’s expression, already reading his mind to see his train of thought.

 

Her foot was bandaged and elevated with pillows, and though her hair greasy 

 

Tom had explained his predicament to her, and asked what she could do for him advice-wise, and she had only laughed more.

 

Which left Tom where he was two days later, the night before the dance, ready to undress and wash before heading to sleep (and hopefully to never wake up). Filled with anxiety and wishing to die more then ever if even possible, he numbly let Tord unbutton his vest, no words or other banter uttered.

 

Tord must have noticed, and made multiple attempts at speaking with him. This struck Tom as rather odd, as it had always seemed that Tord preferred to just get to the job over with then waste time and energy dressing and talking to the waste of life that is Tom. Maybe he was just making Tord feel awkward with his uncharacteristic silence.

 

“You’re awful quiet this evening, sir. Any explanation for this extreme personality shift or should you continue the evening as such?”

 

Ah, addressing the elephant in the room as bold and blunt as ever. Just as he always does.

 

Tom looked into the mirror ahead of him as Tord whirled around to slip off the now unfastened vest.

 

Tom wanted to answer, but was now determined to win the game Tord had set. His prize? Holding the award for most immature man-child alive, five years in a row.

 

Tord smirked as he skirted his hands up Tom’s sides to now remove the shirt. “Not talking, hm?” He smiled and tapped Tom’s arms to indicate that he hold them up to better slip it off. “I suppose I should just talk forever, then...which I know will bring you only happiness here on out.”

 

“Count on it.” Tom retorted unconsciously.

 

“So he speaks!” Tord gave an evil grin, amused at the horrified expression that Tom presented into the mirror. “I knew the King of Jibes could not be deterred from his throne.”

 

Tom rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Enjoy your victory for now, scum.” Tord went to the closet to pick out a night shirt for Tom to sleep in, leaving him to think about how he should choose his next words.

 

“Say...Tord.”

 

An answering hum came as a response.

 

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

 

Tord pauses and turned around, meeting Tom’s eyes in the mirror.

 

“Pardon me?”

 

Tom turned to face him for real. “You know what I am implying. I’m just trying to...” He waves his hands in what he hoped were helpful gestures to emphasize his point. “Prepare myself for whatever may or may not happen with Miss Laurel tomorrow night.”

 

Tord pursed his lips and strode close to Tom, carrying the shirt in his tense arms.

 

“I see.” He mumbled. “So that’s what you’re thinking about.”

 

“I’m a man, right? So should I not think of things like these? Or is it just too taboo even for the privacy of my own mind?”

 

Tord sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

“No, no. Perfectly acceptable. Just interesting to hear you speak of such things is all.”

 

Tord tapped Tom’s arms as his cue, and once the wish was complied, he slid the shirt onto Tom’s lean torso. His hands then came to rest on his hips, Tom’s arms still in the air.

 

Tom quirked an eyebrow. “...Tord? You okay?”

 

Tord just stared down into the other mans eyes, hands still resting on Tom’s hips.

 

Tom sighed. “I should have learned my lesson. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, and I won’t ask any more of these...” A deep intake of air from the other man had Tom trailing off mid-sentence.

 

Tord briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Tom was surprised and left wondering as to why he held his breath when those deep amber eyes met his.

 

“Sorry, lost in thought.” He shook his head, blissfully unaware of how Tom had suddenly became very aware of the cold hands resting on his hips, the skin prickling around and beneath. He let go of the bony hips, the sleep shirt fully sliding down now that there was nothing holding it back.

 

“Anyway,” Tord said. “No, I have never been with a woman before.” He pulled away and went to go and grab the brush for Tom. “I’m very picky when it comes to companionship.”

 

“That’s surprising, considered how...well, you know...” Tom shrugged.

 

“How utterly handsome I am?”

 

”Shut it, you ass.”

 

A snarky chuckle in response.

 

“I would’ve thought,” Tom continued, apparently ready to further this dead-end of a conversation. “it’d be the opposite, meaning you’d sleep with whomever, no strings attached, just a real ladies man.”

 

Tord turned around and quirked an eyebrow, his face unreadable. Suddenly, Tom understood what he had just implied, and quickly made an attempt at rectifying the situation.

 

“I-wait no I didn’t mean that you were like that, or had no standards, but you just would do it for shits and giggles and- no that’s not any better...” He struggled with finding the right words, finding that he only dug his grave even deeper. “Ok, what I mean is-“

 

A noise interrupted his train of thought. First a hardly repressed snicker, but then exploding into full blown laughter. A laugh that sounded like Tord was trying his hardest to control, but suppressing it only built up its strength. Eyes crinkling and mouth being held over his mouth, making a poor excuse for sound isolation, it was an experience that Tom had never witnessed before.

 

He seemed helplessly enslaved to breathless laughter, and it made Tom only stand there and watch as if a creature of the supernatural had just past by. He’d never heard him laugh out of genuine enjoyment.

 

As soon as Tord had calmed himself, still occasionally gasping for air, but eventually letting out a long sigh, he gave Tom the widest smile ever to be seen.

 

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, Thomas.” He said, his eyes light.

 

Tom could only remain a statue, his mouth slightly agape. When he came to his senses, he cleared his throat and put on a cocky and annoyed with expression that was obviously faux but amusing none of the less for Tord.

 

“Well-fine then. Don’t see how that was so funny, but no matter.” He huffed, but gave a smile to Tord. “And...if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it if you could wake me up tomorrow morning?”

 

Tord smirked, but gave an inquisitive ‘hmm?’ just the same.

 

“I mean,” Tom scratched his head as he took the brush from Tord’s hair. “Do what Miss Ethel does and bring me up my breakfast, as well as dressing me. You don’t have to obviously.”

 

Tom faced the mirror once more as he brushed his wild mane of hair, catching Tord’s eyes in the mirror.

 

“Yes, sir.” Tord replied, the new found smile forever staying on his face, it seemed.

 

 

•••

 

 

That night, no matter what Tom told himself or did to distract his wandering mind, he questioned why it made him feel so good to unlock such a gleeful expression from Tord, and why he cared so much when Tord agreed to wake him up.

 

Or why the laughter he heard rang in his ears and lulled him to a peaceful sleep in the twilight of his room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll update more often. Or at least I’ll try to.


	5. Okay listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SORRY ITS BEEN A YEAR ANYWAY HERE YOU GO

When Tom woke up the following morning, he had expected a booming and shrill voice, along with the abrupt assault of light from the curtains. What he did not expect, as you tend to forget things when first awakened, was a cold but soothing large hand running through his hair, still encased in a relatively dark room.

It felt so nice, the scalp massage, that the young lord nearly forgot that he didn’t know who was giving this to him, and went to fall back to sleep.

Almost.

Thomas snapped up in the bed, the hand still entangled in his messy hair. He blinked his eyes to adjust to the dim and near nonexistent light, yet light just the same. When he did, he found a broad shouldered silhouette. Which eventually translated to the piercing eyes of a man. He recognized those eyes, and instantly scowled.

“Tord, the fuck ‘er you doin’ ‘ere?” Tom slurred out, mind still hazy from sleep.

Tord raises an eyebrow, quirking a snarky smile as well. “You asked me to wake you up yesterday, sir.”

Tom blinked lazily, allowing his mind to catch up with reality before he finally sighed and slumped back into his pillows.

“Ahhh....sorry ‘bout that...” He smushed his cheek into the pillow, cringing slightly at the damp and cold spot he now rested on, presumably from drool. “Wait, why ‘ja pettin’ me like a cat?”

Tord sighed and continued to softly drum along Tom’s scalp. “My mother used to wake me like this, and I figured it would be a better technique to wake you than yelling for all of hell to hear like...certain people.”

Tom giggled and smiled into his pillow, understanding the reference and taking pleasure out of this inside joke they shared.

Tord clucked his tongue. “We still have to get you ready, sir. You should probably get ready.”

“Mmm....five more minutes, Tord.”

No response came other than the continued gentle massage.

“You’re a lot different when you’re sleepy, sir.” Tord murmured, now taking to running his fingers through Tom’s messy hair.

“Oh ‘yah?” Tom rolled to face Tord, raising a hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “How so?”

Tord bit his lip. “A lot more...compliant. And sweet.” He brushed his hand along Tom’s forehead to push the hair out of his eyes.

“Sweet, huh?” Tom closed his eyes again and nuzzled back into the pillow, to which Tord shook his head.

“Sir, we really should be getting ready...” He made to pull his hand away, being stopped by Tom’s warm hand to rest it back against his head.

“Nooo...” He mumbled softly. “Feels good...feels really good..”

Tord audibly gulped.

“Listen, my lord, but if this is just going to drift you back to sleep, then I’ll do this the ‘Miss.Edith’ way.”

Tom snorted and lazily opened his eyes. “Fine, fine.” To which Tord’s hand slid off his head and went to rest by his side again.

 

•••

 

“And you’re sure this will be ok?”

Tord nodded in agreement as he rubbed oil behind the young lord’s ear.

Thomas had been thrown about, back and forth, all day, not having a moment of peace to himself, only spending any second of solitude with Susanna. She had gushed over how handsome he looked and attempted to give him tips on treating Laurel.

(“Yes, this really could have helped a week or so ago when I was gathering this data.” Tom had deadpanned as he tossed another biscuit into her mouth, landing it on her clothed breast.

“Yes well,” she said, muffled around the newly retrieved strawberry biscuit, spewing crumbs everywhere. “I was tad busy, you see.” She reached to her side and delicately grabbed her cup of lukewarm tea. “Couldn’t you have asked Tord?”

“I did.”

“And what did he say?”

“...I don’t want to talk about it.”)

And here he was, hours later, only half a minute away from being whisked out by two other footmen to drag him to the carriage outside.

Tord stood back and admired his work, cracking his knuckles. Tom had been dressed in a tight fitting white button up with a black waist coat. It highlighted his lean muscles and shoulders and made him look more filled out. Very becoming, Tord had supplied.

“I hope to kiss Laurel tonight, you know, and I don’t wish to be as repulsive as usual.”

Tord dusted the thick brush over his shoulders and waist to remove any hairs or dust that may have been collected on Tom’s outfit. 

“You’re not repulsive, sir. You just have the moral integrity of Edd on a diet.” 

“Thanks”

“My pleasure”

Tom sighed in defeat. Through his own worries and insecurities regarding tonight, he has noticed that Tord has been more quiet, but snappier than usual. He seemed lost in thought, even as he expertly hems his trousers.

“Tord?”

“What?” Said man grunted, astonishing both men in the room. He quickly got up, putting his small pillow of pins on the vanity, then took a bow in front of Thomas.

“Forgive me, my lord. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Tom, eyes widened, only gave a sweet smile in return.

“Don’t worry about it! I’m just worried for you now if anything.”

A break in the servants exterior, only for a second, at the statement, before gathering himself and returning to his cold and professional demeanor.

“You shouldn’t worry about someone like me. I again apologize, sir.”

Tom furrowed his brow. 

“I...I thought you could at least tell me some of your worries, as I do to you near every day...” He looked into Tord’s cold eyes with hope. “Is...that what you think should separate us? Simple names and titles based on things we can’t control?”

Tord gave a huff. “A naive way of thinking, but...a good one nonetheless.” He said, eyes locked on where his hands meet Tom. “You’re a good man, sir, and hearing you say such things brings me pride to serve under you.” His eyes slid up to looking deep into Tom’s.

Tom was at a loss for words at the boldness, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face once more. His own hand trailed up to rest upon his servant.

The servant twitched in surprise, but otherwise remained unmoving.

There was something in the air, something unspeakable, something that made it seem like no one was talking about. Tom couldn’t place his finger on what social contract was telling him. But what he did know was that this was a feeling he’d like to chase, then realizing that this is the most intimately they’ve touched rather than just professionally.

Suddenly, something went dead in Tord’s eyes, and he quickly drew himself back. 

“Tord?” Tom asked.

“That should be enough for tonight.” He said in a monotonous voice. “Paul shall come to guide you to the dance in a short minute.”

Confusion replaced the joy and newfound friendship and understanding, but he firmly decided it was only because Tord was busy worried about something else.

“Ok...thank you Tord.” He smiled again, brighter than ever now that he believed he and Tord had just achieved something close and new. “You’re a good man.”

Tord turned to him with something unreadable in his face, then bowed and took his leave.

 

•••

 

A room fit to its name, a true ball. Beautiful tapestries and silk draped down from the ceiling almost seeming to be the sources of light from how they shone and sparkled. Tables covered with sweets and cakes, candied fruits, plates of sugared hams and meats, and jugs of cider surrounded by crystal glasses.

The room was filled with men and women, all parading in their own assorted colors and fabrics. A pleasant white noise of polite chatter and the clinking of crystal and metal, accompanied by a large band’s sweet music located near the back of the room on an elevated platform.

Tom entered, hair slicked back, and confidence quickly fading. He was intimidated by the large crowd. And where was Laurel? Without her, he’ll be roaming around alone, awkwardly clinging to the walls and buffet tables.

At a glance to the refuge of the wall, Tom saw the footmen, who had accompanied their rightful guests, as their duty. 

He saw Tord, talking to some man with thick, bushy eyebrows. They seems to be deep in discussion, and Tom felt a pang of jealousy at this idea of having to share his newfound friend. But are they friends? It was hard to tell...Tord was just so mysterious...

“Thomas!” 

Tom quickly turned around, knocking into a brightly colored blur. 

“L-Laurel!”

She was is gem more beautiful than he imagined, tightly wrapped in blue around her middle, and fading into a modern black near the bottom. Hair done up and heavy looking with flowers and beads, fresh powder on her rosy cheeks, she was as stunning as ever.

“Laurel...” he trailed off, trying to keep respectful contact. “you look like an angel.”

She winked. “And you a gentleman.”

He gulped. Now what had he been taught?

Well...jack shit. He was going to have to improv this.

Be courteous. “So, would you care for a drink?”

With a smile and a small request, Tom quickly went to fulfill the order. 

People filled the room, it almost surreal. The white noise of conversation, the occasional word or laugh standing out, was pleasant to Tom’s ears.

And throughout the night, nothing but light hearted jokes and lovely dancing filled his heart, surely a memory to have forever.

 

***

 

“Tord, it was the most wonderful night!”

“Yes, you said that.”

“And we danced so well together! One would think we’d have taken lessons!”

“Hm.”

“And Laurel, did you see her!” Thomas sighed. “She is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld, her eyes are like gems, and her lips-“

“Hm”

Tom turned around from his seat at the vanity.

“Tord, are you listening to me at all?”

Tord was absentmindedly stirring Tom’s tea, a blank expression on his face.

“Yes...” He shook his head, coming to.” I’m sorry sir, just got lost in thought.”

“You tend to do that often.”

“Yes.”

“Is everything alright?”

Tord shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal.

“Quite fine, sir. Pay me no mind. Now get into bed, I have other things to attend to.”

Thomas groaned but reluctantly trudged over to the bed, plopping down with no haste. Tord fluffed the pillow before Tom lay back and settled in.

“Thank you, Tord.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

As Tord turned to go, Tom suddenly sat up. 

“Tord, can I ask you something?” He quietly asked, clearly nervous.

Tord stopped and turned his head, glancing at Tom through his peripheral vision.

“What”

“D-do you think Miss Laurel likes me?”

Tord was silent, then chuckled to himself, confusing the young lord greatly. Tord straightened his jacket then turned to Tom. He smiled, a rare occurrence, then gracefully glided back to the bed. 

He went to his knees by Tom, and, with a small chuckle, raised his hand to hold Tom’s head up to him, still towering over the young boy even on his knees.

With a snicker he whispered.

“My lord, if I were a woman like her, I could not keep myself from ravishing you.”

Tom’s eyes widened.

Tord snickered.

“But that’s just me.” He said. Tord then got to his feet, bowed, and left the room promptly.

Tom watched him go with a fast beating heart and sweaty palms, his head stirring at the skin contact and the sudden confession.

How the hell is he supposed to analyze THIS??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kill me


End file.
